


no worries for the rest of your days

by bowlingfornerds



Series: tumblr prompts [37]
Category: The 100
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 09:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7308748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowlingfornerds/pseuds/bowlingfornerds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From @carrieeve on tumblr: I’m watching The Lion King on my phone and I’m trying to hide the fact I’m sobbing uncontrollably but you notice anyway.</p><p>What it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no worries for the rest of your days

In retrospect, watching The Lion King in a coffee shop was a bad idea.

But Clarke couldn’t change the past, and she also couldn’t bring herself to stop crying as she watched Mufasa fall to his death. Her hand hurriedly swiped tears away from her damp cheeks, and she sniffed, trying to regain her composure, but it wasn’t exactly working.

Simba spotted his father on the screen and another tear slithered down her face as the small lion cub ran for Mufasa.

This was a _terrible_ idea, but she had to watch it for a Disney-inspired art installation she and a few others were working on. Clarke should have protested more against getting The Lion King, because she cried _every time_ she watched it, and she certainly shouldn’t have started in public, in her favourite coffee shop, The Dropship.

Her coffee was all but finished, and her head tilted forward, hoping to shield her face with her hair and hide the fact she was crying, but it didn’t seem to work. She was so preoccupied with the film, and trying to hide from everyone, that Clarke jumped when a fresh mug of black coffee was placed in front of her. She looked up as Scar ordered Simba to run away, to find a man with tan skin and dark curly hair, smiling warmly. Clarke paused the film and pulled out an earbud, hoping to be subtle in drying her eyes.

“You look like you need it,” the barista said, his voice low and soothing. Clarke’s eyes jumped to his name badge – _Bellamy_ – before looking back up to his face. She nodded quickly, swallowing and taking a breath.

“Thank you,” she replied. “But you really don’t have to-“ Clarke gestured to the drink but the man shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house. And look, you’ve stopped crying already.” He smiled a little more and Clarke didn’t have it in her to feel as embarrassed as she should, before nodding. She tucked her hair behind her ear, placing her phone down on the table.

“Thanks,” she repeated. “I didn’t, uh, I mean.” She swallowed, looking at her drink before looking at the man – Bellamy.

“Seriously,” he interrupted. “It’s fine. A crying girl is always bad for business, anyway.” Clarke exhaled a laugh as he tilted his head. “Are you alright, though? If it’s not rude to ask?”

Clarke smiled a little more, shaking her head, and pushing her hair away from her face. “No, it’s uh – nothing’s wrong. I just always cry at this scene in the film.”

“Which film?” Bellamy asked, glancing at her phone. She winced, looking away.

“You’re going to laugh at me,” she told him. Bellamy grinned.

“No, I won’t!”

“Yeah, yeah you will,” she huffed. “You’re going to laugh at me when I tell you.”

“Ah, but you’re going to tell me anyway?”

Clarke paused, studying him for just a second. Bellamy’s face was dotted with freckles, and his hair was a mess like he was perpetually running his fingers through it. His smile was probably the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen in her life, and Clarke suddenly itched to draw him – the angles of his face, the expression, the dark eyes.

“It’s The Lion King,” she relented at last. “I was crying over The Lion King.”

“Mufasa’s death?” Granted, he wasn’t laughing, but Bellamy was supressing a smile with all he had and Clarke watched as his lips thinned into a line out of the effort it was taking.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I was crying at his death.”

“At least you weren’t crying at Hakuna Matata,” he said, the smile breaking through. “Then I’d be really worried about you.” Clarke breathed out a laugh, shaking her head.

“I cry at this film every time I watch it,” she told him, though she wasn’t sure why. “It’s just something that happens.”

“Man, you would _suck_ at watching Bridge to Terabithia,” he decided, sliding into the seat opposite her. She raised an eyebrow but he took no notice – Clarke didn’t particularly mind, either. He was more interesting than watching something she’d inevitably continue to cry at, anyway.

“I’ve never seen it,” she replied. He stared at her in shock for a moment.

“ _Never_?” he asked. Clarke shook her head, hair bouncing from side to side.

“What’s it about?” Bellamy’s dumbfounded look only covered his face for a moment, before he burst into his explanation of the film.

“It’s based on the classic book where two children become unlikely friends and run off into the woods behind their houses and imagine an entire world that they rule over, as an escape from the bullies and poverty and real-life issues they have to deal with,” Bellamy explained, his hands making gestures as he went. “It’s the most beautiful film for children I have ever watched, and I will watch it a million times if I have to, but I will still cry every time.”

Clarke let out a short laugh, leaning on the table.

“It sounds good,” she admitted. “Plus, seeing you cry would be like, making us even.” Bellamy hesitated for a second before his easy smile was back.

“You’d have to bring me a hot drink to make me feel better,” he returned and Clarke grinned.

“Are you a fan of hot chocolate?” she asked.

“Who _isn’t_?”

“Fair. Well I make the world’s best hot chocolate – I have references – so, if you’re up for it?” Clarke was rarely _this_ forward, with someone, but there was something about Bellamy; something in the easy smile and relaxed demeanour; in the way he laughed and his eyes lit up as he talked to her. She couldn’t help but want to see more of him – even if that meant just turning up at The Dropship far more often than necessary.

“I think I would be a fool to turn down the world’s best hot chocolate,” Bellamy responded, before pausing. “I don’t even know your name.” Clarke hesitated before laughing, then. She supposed she _wasn’t_ wearing a name badge, was she?

“Clarke,” she introduced, sticking her hand out. He slipped his hand into hers – so much bigger than her small palm, and more calloused, too.

“Bellamy,” he replied. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you. So, what are you thinking? Bridge to Terabithia and some hot chocolate as we cry?” Bellamy laughed.

“A little unorthodox but it sounds like a great first date to me.”

(It was.)

(They cried.)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always loved, thanks


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